Shower
by TropicanaLemonadeOnASunnyDay
Summary: Russia is a voyeur. No other explanation is needed. PWP. Russia/FemAmerica.


RusAme. FemAmerica, um, I guess I'll make her human name Amelia ... ? No, it just sounds so ollddd...but so is Alfred ... gah, I change my mind too much. Alice is what I started with and I guess that's how I'll go...but wait, I could call her Allison...? -_-;; I really need to pick Nyotalia names once and for all, because I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO CHOOOOOSEEEE FOR ANYONEEE ... I think I'll just shut up now. Please give teh advicez, pehpohlz? (yeah, I can spell badly if I want to)

EDIT: Fuck, I'm so sorry people, I totally fogot to end one of my sentences so I went back to fix the unfinished thought... Once again, sorry! And wikipedia said that most people don't remember Ivan's anthem. If this isn't true at all and you're Russian and you were offended, drop me a line and I'll fix it. You can all blame my idiocy!

* * *

Russia blinked and sat up slowly, mind still sleepy and hazy. The bed was warm and soft, but he was alone. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he yawned and padded down the hall in search of America. The sound of rushing water emanated from the bathroom, and he peeked through the slightly open door.

Suddenly very thankful for steam's propensity to fog up glass, he watched America run her fingers through her short darker blonde hair and tilt her head up to catch the stream of water from the showerhead. His eyes widened slightly, following her contours. She picked up a bottle of shampoo and squirted out some onto her hand, massaging the soap into her scalp. Ducking her head back into the water, she washed out the soap and pushed back locks of hair from her face.

She grabbed a bar of soap (it was orange) and began to rub it over her arms slowly, unknowingly taunting the Slavic nation standing outside her door. He closed his eyes almost shamefully, opening them again to watch rivulets of soapy water run down her rather well endowed body. Something that sounded vaguely like his national anthem (to which the lyrics his people still forgot) echoed out in the strange way voices did in the shower, and he smiled a little.

Turning slightly to reach for a bottle of conditioner, she combed her hair back and took a little dollop of said product, slamming the cap shut by hitting it against her left forearm. She spread the gloppy white liquid on her fingers and spread it through her hair. Finally rinsing it out, she turned to face the spray of water and shook her hair out.

The shower trickled to a stop with a dull clunk as she turned the knob. Pushing the door open, one arm reached out for a towel and snatched it from the bar from which it hung. America stepped out not much later, still dripping wet, wearing nothing but her dog tags, and grabbed a smaller towel to dry her hair. He retreated and leaned against the wall, sinking to the floor, panting heavily and feeling his cheeks burn bright red. America stepped out not much later, wearing a turquoise shirt and plain black pants. Trying not to laugh, she said, "Vanya?" He sucked in a deep breath, wondering how bad he must look. Half naked, sweaty, and already half hard. She only giggled. "You're such a voyeur sometimes." She knelt down beside him, leaning forward to catch his lips in a soft kiss. Her soft still damp hair tickled his skin and he moaned unrestrainedly, letting her explore his mouth. One hand trailed a circuitous path lower and lower, only to end with her fingers drumming insistent patterns into his thigh. Finally, agonizingly slowly, it inched downwards to palm his erection through the thin fabric of his boxers. He bit his lip and fought the urge to move his hips.

America smirked again, letting her other hand caress his neck softly and slowly stroke his chest, pressing kisses down his collar bone and sucking and licking the flesh under her tongue. Her hand slipped under the waistband of his boxers and pulled them off as she began to rub his arousal gently. All attempts at forming a coherent thought or remark were lost under the slow, sweet torture.

Shuffling backwards, she shot him a look as she placed her hands on his hips and licked it once. "A-A...stop being such a tease!" Complying, she took his length in her mouth slowly, trying to get as much of it as she could, stroking what she couldn't swallow with her hands. "It's not my fault you're freakishly huge!" She slurred around his cock. Groaning at the sudden vibration and trying to hold back a scream as her teeth grazed and nibbled on him, he tried to thrust forward, only to be stopped by America's hand still firmly in place. Her other hand reached upwards to rub his neck. "Cheater!" He cursed violently as he came, watching America try to swallow his cum. Little bits dripped down her chin, which she licked up. "Dammit. Now we'll have to take a shower again." He smiled tiredly. "I don't think I would mind that."

* * *

When describing soap, it just ... sounds so wrong ... **._. **... I feel so perverted for writing this ...

On the popular iPhone app Fruit Ninja, one of Sensei's Fruit Facts is that by warming a lemon, it will exude more juice. 8D BAHAHAHAH, SO TRUE, SO TRUE. But really it is.

Uh, relevant info is: my headcanon says Russia's erogenous zone is his neck. And expect a sequel to this! 


End file.
